Selfharm/depressed/Dark poems

Part 20

;The worst type of crying is the silent one. The one when everyone is asleep. The one where you feel it in your throat, and your eyes go blurry from the tears. The one where you just want to acres. The one here you got to hold your breath and grab your stomach just to keep quiet. The one where you can't breath anymore. the one where you realize the one that meant the most, is gone.

;Home is no longer the four walls I live in, home is now the pain and emptiness I have become familiar with, everyday I get so sick and tired of faking smiles and telling people 'I'm fine' when I don't mean it. all the drama and the ignorance to what is really going on, the flat conversations full of awkward silences and an angry atmosphere left afterwards, when I talk to people I don't know whether they really hear me or whether they think they should say something to make me feel better, hope doesn't make me feel better, on most days I don't want to even get up but when I do, I knee hoping that someone will be there for me, to give me a reason to wake up, a reason to get through the day and sees through the 'I'm fines' and the smiles, a friend who doesn't brush the conversation under the mat after they've said their kind spoke. words that don't make me feel better, some days I feel like I have such high expectations because they never seem to happen, everyday I begin to feel more and more helpless, the future seems hopeless and attempts of trying means nothing, but I still wonder what it would be like to find joy and happiness in something or someone,I wonder what it would be like to be free from these shackles but I can't even see it because its blurred out by everything that's completely utterly shit.

;Nobody knew her properly or why she was acting the way she is.

one day she would be happy then aggressive and sad.

she was rational at times and people thought she jut lacked emotions but there was a lot more to it.

at night she would wonder if she would ever wake upon the morning or if she would die in her sleep.

the worst labels were thrown at her but that didn't bother her the most what she concerned her the most was herself,

there were cut marks all up her arms, they gave herself a sense of relief, it became her addiction..but nobody ever seen what she did to herself, how she treated and see herself.. and she slowly faded away into darkness that is depression,

So..I don't know what to say to you guys.. I had an argument with my parents cause I tried to tell them about my depression and suicidal thoughts they told me to stop talking about that and yelled at me...WTF! there my parents there suppose to be there for me :s and they want to take me to get my blood tested (well basically its my doctors appointment) but my arms are scarred and cut up on both arms .. I'm fucked :o ..but  I'm so tired ~.~ lol and I think I'm going to tell my two closest friends about my suicidal thoughts cause I need someone to talk to cause I'm getting less fearless to swollow all my sleep pills I have left or this bottle of Tylenol ..